The First Page of a New Chapter
by jackdawsinflight
Summary: Robbie walks Laura home after telling her he is turning over the page of a new chapter. A fluffy, short, entirely plot-less, gap-filling bit of fun. Set during Ramblin' Boy.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is nothing new. It has been done many times before, and far more stylishly/entertainingly/accurately, by others. However, it just came to me when I was meant to be working. It's a bit of fluff for a Sunday. A one- possibly two-shot. Robbie is walking Laura home after their little drink in the bar when she asks him about Val and he tells her he is ready for a new chapter (and we all said "Hurrah!").**

* * *

"So… this _new_ chapter…" Laura's voice was light and breathy; Robbie could hear the nervousness in it.

He smiled to himself as he sauntered beside her, walking her home along the High Street, through the busy nocturnal happenings of the city, hands plunged deep into his pockets and his mind lightened, as though suddenly released from an age-old burden. He heard the scuff of her heels on the pavement as they meandered along. They had been walking for some time and she had dropped the words into a comfortable, yet emotionally-charged silence. Seemingly, she'd needed some time to absorb the phrase he'd found so easy to utter in the bar some hours before.

"Mmm hmm?" The smirk on his face was not coy; rather it was warm and full of hopeful anticipation. He leaned forward slightly to look down at her.

Laura bit her lip, her eyes dark and disquieted. She looked away quickly, as though suddenly fascinated by the murky window display of a bookshop they were passing. He'd caught her unbelievably off guard with his little revelation earlier; she'd almost choked. A stilted acknowledgement of his words, followed by a hasty gulp of her gin and tonic had been all the response she could muster at the time. Now, buoyed by the alcohol in her veins, there was something she needed to know.

She swallowed, "Um… I suppose I was just wondering…"

Her voice trailed off as she turned her face back, upwards towards him. In the balmy streetlight, with her eyes wide, he struggled to recall her ever looking more beautiful.

"What?" He chuckled. "_What_ were you wondering?"

The rhythm of their footsteps on the pavement stuttered and eventually stopped in a darkened shop doorway. They turned to face each other, bright-eyed in spite of the shadows. She regarded his face: noting the lines that his life thus far had etched on his face, the watery depth of his eyes, the inverted arc of his lips.

His lips. She was looking directly at them now.

Tearing her eyes away, back to his, she took an audible breath as a new swell of nervousness rose achingly in her chest. Her forehead creased in a perplexed frown.

She stared upwards at him. He knew. He knew exactly what she was wondering.

Robbie watched as she pursed her lips. Those lips. He smiled again at the thought that tonight might finally have brought him a step closer to kissing them. _A new chapter. _He'd chosen his words carefully. He hoped that in them she'd heard no sense of expectation or entitlement; he simply wanted her to know his door was now open, so to speak.

It was up to her whether to step through it. And when.

He smiled widely at her. He could wait. He would wait as long as it took for Laura Hobson to turn the page and take up the place he longed for her to have in his life. He just hoped he hadn't left it too late.

The thought caused his smile to fade momentarily. Perhaps he was assuming too much. He had come to feel a physical ache for this woman… but could he be absolutely sure she felt the same way? Granted, she'd pushed him towards his revelation earlier in the bar: her clipped and almost awkward question about Val had seemed to speak volumes, but what if he had misread it? His face fell. In the dim light, Laura watched his expression change and tilted her chin, her own frown deepening.

"What, Robbie?" She whispered. "What's the matter?"

"Ah, nothin'." He shook his head and took a step closer, looking down at her with wistful intensity, silently willing her to take away his sudden doubt. His voice dropped to just above a whisper, "What… what were you wondering, Laura?"

Laura's heart quickened. He was looking at her so intently, causing her throat to tighten. Perhaps this was it. Perhaps this was the moment that she and Robbie might finally take their endless dance beyond friendship. He was willing her towards him; she felt the magnetism in his stance, heard it in his tone of voice. God, how she wanted to feel the warmth of his chest as she pressed herself against it; to hear the low rumble of his words murmured into her hair as he held her, the sultry heat of his breath on her neck. Once again, her thoughts left her breathless: the rising tension of the evening beginning to leave her weak.

Steeling herself, she took a step towards him. And another; her footsteps the only sound in the hazy silence of the doorway. All at once, the physical distance between them began to blur from platonic to something more, aligning itself finally with the closeness they had long since felt for each other. Robbie could smell her perfume: Laura could sense the musty wax of his Barbour coat. She stole a glance upwards at him, her face a picture of eager uncertainty and he smiled back at her, nodding slightly. Yes. Yes, we can do this.

His hands were shaking.

She reached out for one of them, the contact sending a shard of excitement up his spine. Her fingers were cold and clammy, in spite of the evening's warmth. The pad of her thumb traced an experimental line across his palm, prompting him to reach down to take her other hand in his. He squeezed it and watched a small, reassured smile pass fleetingly across her cheeks. She couldn't recall the last time she had breathed.

Slowly, he brought her hands up to his chest, pressing them against his shirt through his open jacket. The action forced her to step closer, closing any remaining distance between them. Spreading her fingers out over the cotton of his shirt, she reveled in the unanticipated but ever-increasing intimacy of the situation. As she looked up at him, her perplexed frown was gone, but her eyes remained wide.

Quietly, Robbie repeated the question, "_What_ were you wondering?"

Her face flushed and she made to step backwards, but he held her hands tightly against him. "Tell me," he murmured.

She took a deep breath, her head spinning with the unexpected turn of the night's events. "Well... I was just wondering… um…" she was distracted as his eyes roamed her face. She swallowed, "this new chapter…" Robbie nodded, attentively, as one of his hands slipped down to her waist.

Laura closed her eyes in a vain attempt to steady herself, " …does it…?" she breathed, interrupted again by his other hand finding her cheek.

"Mmm?" He questioned, wordlessly, so eager for her now. She was letting him touch her. Finally, _finally_, he was putting his arms around her. And not out of comfort or camaraderie: this time he could feel the inviting curve of her hip through her dress, the peach-like softness of the skin below her earlobe. Involuntarily, his hold on her tightened: he felt his every nerve ending becoming alive and alert. She smelled just as she always did, _just like Laura_, but somehow everything seemed heightened. He inhaled deeply, simply wanting to breathe her in. How good it felt to hold her, to allow the electricity of her proximity to course in his veins. He was distantly aware of his heart clattering in his ribcage. No doubt she had noticed it too, but he didn't care. All that mattered was feeling her here, against him, letting him hold her, as he savoured the heady, but almost unbearable anticipation of the first time he might kiss her.

"Does this new chapter include me?" She whispered, finally finishing the question, but by now already knowing the answer.

He smiled, almost laughing, his thumb tracing the outline of her jaw, as he tilted her chin gently upwards towards him. "I'd say so. Yes."

A wide smile flooded across her face, but her eyes still danced with nervous energy.

Somewhere far away in her consciousness, Laura laughed at the way she was behaving. By now Robbie had consumed her senses: the gentle, old-school lilt of his aftershave had found her nostrils; the agitated rhythm of his heart was clamouring beneath her palms on his chest; and his almost uncharacteristic, verging-on-possessive hold on her hip was pressing her firmly against him. In the milliseconds before he kissed her, she was overwhelmed by the urgency she felt, and could sense that he felt too. It was as though all of the uncertain flirtation, the overly warm gestures, the age-old friendship and the slow-burning attraction they'd endured for so many years were being violently funneled into this moment, resulting in an explosive pressure that was both exquisite and alarming.

"And when…" Her breath was coming out unevenly.

"Yeah?" Robbie was staring at her in such a way, it made her stomach flip.

"When…" she swallowed, as he ducked his face slightly closer towards hers, "when does this new chapter start?"

He felt her breath on his face and smiled.

"Oh, Laura, love…" It felt so strange but so heavenly to hear him whisper her name like that, "I'd say it already has."

She watched as his lips parted slightly and his gaze flitted to her mouth. She closed her eyes as his nose grazed hers, nudging her backwards so that their mouths could meet. She waited, as Robbie savoured one last moment of anticipation.

And then it happened. The new chapter began.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: thanks for the lovely comments. It's daft, but it makes writing worthwhile. Thank you for reading. Here's the second bit. There might be a bit more - as usual, I am not entirely sure where this is going - although it certainly isn't going to be more than a few chapters - so bear with me. Thank you again for reading!**

* * *

Many, _many _ minutes later, as the ringing in her ears subsided and Robbie's grip on her slackened ever so slightly, Laura remembered to breathe. She inhaled the new smell of Robbie-up-close whilst her fingertips rested in their newfound favourite place, nestled between his shirt and his jacket.

The kiss had started slowly: barely more than a hesitant skimming of lips that seemed almost tame against the riotous accompaniment of their heartbeats. Distantly, Laura had wondered how long it had been since Robbie had kissed a woman, whereas Robbie's reticence came from wondering how Laura would expect him to go about this. Kissing her was something he had come to contemplate with increasing regularity of late. He wanted to get it right. Fortunately, however, their uncertainties were short-lived, as the natural understanding so apparent in their friendship began to make itself known. Gradually, they found a rhythm that seemed almost pre-rehearsed, causing a slow, tender warmth to flare between them. As Laura reached up on her tiptoes, Robbie's hand slid into her hair, cradling her against him: kissing her deeply, almost reverently. Then, steadily, their gentle explorations spilled over into something more potent. Laura's head began to swim as he swung her around, pushing her up against the wall of the doorway, firmly, the pressure of his touch building.

The kiss surprised Laura. Not by how good it was – she had always suspected that kissing Robbie would be _good_ – but by its sheer intensity. Somehow she'd always imagined Robbie to be a quick-affectionate-nuzzle-then-hold-your-hand kind of guy: mild not only in his manners. Considerate, kind... but perhaps a little pedestrian. _Decent_... and all the other labels that people tended to afford him. But they - and she - had been wrong. So wrong. Here he was, kissing her as though his life depended upon it. And it felt good. Staggeringly, breath-takingly, amazingly good.

Robbie didn't want the kiss to stop. This had not been part of the plan for this evening – to be practically groping Laura in a doorway as the traffic ambled by, the vehicle headlights sending ribbons of light over her flushed face. It was ungentlemanly, it was uncouth, but he was helpless to it. She had this unruly effect on him. Thankfully, she didn't seem to object: Laura's hands had slipped incautiously under his jacket and she was emitting occasional murmuring sounds that seemed to tug on his very core. _God, she was gorgeous._

For each of them, it was such a heady mix of emotions and impulses: the new and exciting sensation of holding each other this close and in this manner, combined with the significance of their past and their friendship. The attraction was electric, magnified tenfold by the sheer, delighted relief of what was finally happening.

"Oi-oi!" A group of rowdy students had spotted them from across the road. They wolf-whistled and jeered jovially as they walked past, bursting the bubble in which the pair found themselves. Robbie froze, as though he was a schoolboy again, caught in the act. Laura couldn't help but laugh, burying her face and her giggles into his chest, relaxing against him, as his arms drew her inwards.

"Sorry." He whispered into her hair, gathering her in.

"What for?" She withdrew her face from his chest and looked up at him.

"For behaving like some love-struck teenager and getting you whistled at."

Laura laughed. "That's OK." She paused and looked at him,_ really_ looked at him, before smirking. "Actually, I quite enjoyed it."

"You did?" He took a step backwards in order to gauge properly her facial expression.

"Mmm." She smiled widely.

He laughed, relieved.

"Robbie?"

"Yeah?"

"Do it again?"

He smirked down at her, noting with satisfaction that her earlier nervousness seemed to have disappeared. "With pleasure…"

His lips reconnected with hers and her laughter quickly subsided, as once again she was drawn under by the Robert Lewis effect.

* * *

Some time later, they meandered along Laura's road, hand in hand. Laura was chattering girlishly and practically walking in circles to avoid reaching her door and the inevitable separation that this would entail. Robbie was aware of her tactics, both pleased and perturbed by their connotations: surely he must do the gentlemanly thing here. That's what she would expect of him. That is what _he_ would expect of him. Yet not much of what had occurred this evening so far had been exactly in line with his expectations.

Eventually, they could procrastinate no further and they reached her front door. Laura slipped her key into the lock and then turned back towards him.

'So…" She smiled hazily up at Robbie, raised on the doorstep, bringing her face almost level with his.

"So." The tone of his voice was gentle, but he put his hands resolutely in his pockets. He was determined to behave properly.

"Is this goodnight?"

"I think so…"

She pursed her lips into a smile and nodded.

They stood in silence, suddenly shy again, but their eyes spoke volumes. _I don't want this to end. But I know it has to. For now..._

She sighed, gently, wordlessly voicing what they were both feeling.

"I know." He agreed, aloud. "I'm sorry."

"It's OK, Robbie..."

He ducked slightly to catch her gaze. "You know there is nothing on earth I would rather do right now than stumble through your front door with you... don't you?"

She breathed a faint laugh, her face flushing. Restraint had always been Robbie's forte, rather than hers, but over the years she'd learnt from him. She could manage, even though it felt like her entire body was calling out to him. She loved him too much to press him. Deep down, she loved that he wanted to take this slowly. Heavens, she loved that he was willing to take it anywhere at all. After all their near misses, this was definite progress.

"Really?" She indulged herself instead with an attempt to make him elaborate upon the enormity of the night's events.

"Oh c'mon, Laura. Don't be coy. You must know how I feel about you."

An almost palpable flashback of their interlude in the shop doorway thundered through her. She smiled, in spite of herself.

"Honestly, Robbie? Until about half an hour ago, it had been pretty impossible to tell."

At this he laughed. "Fair point." He mused. "Truth be told, I've been a bit unsure myself. It... er... took me a while to work it out."

She hesitated. "But you're sure now?"

"Laura." He looked at her pointedly. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

She blushed. He'd never looked at her like that before.

Robbie scuffed the doorstep, nervously, before regaining eye contact. "It's er... been a long time since I felt like this." He sighed. "A very long time. But... one thing I can be sure of is that I know what _this_ is. About that I am absolutely certain, because I've been here once before... For me, there's no mistaking it."

She blinked as she took in the extent of what he was saying. "No?" Was all she could manage.

He smiled and shook his head. "No. And I suppose I've finally come to realise that there's no point in fighting it anymore."

He stepped a little closer to her and lowered his voice:

"Laura, you see, nothing less would be good enough... nothing else would have made me feel ready to move on."

She nodded, quickly, trying to smile but grimacing slightly as tears pricked. She blinked them back. "I..." Her words failed her.

Again, he took her hands and squeezed them tightly. "Sorry." he whispered. "Was that too much?"

"No... no, not at all..."

"You sure?"

"It's fine, Robbie, honestly. It's just... well, I can't really believe you're actually saying all this."

He laughed. "Well, you know me, Laura. I'm an all-or-nothing kind of guy."

"Yes... yes, you are."

"Especially when it comes to things as important as this."

"Shit or bust." She sounded a little dazed.

"Well, yes... exactly... but there's no need to swear." He smirked.

"Oh, I disagree." Laura laughed, ruefully. "Sometimes, Robbie, when you're involved, there is an abject need to swear."

"Oh no. Really?"

"Yes!" She laughed again. "You're a bloody law unto yourself. Everyone has you down as this predictable, dependable sort of man... but if only they knew!"

"So this, tonight, has all come as a bit of a surprise then?"

"You could say that."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising!"

"No... I don't just mean about tonight, Laura. I mean for all of the mixed signals... all the times we... almost..."

She sighed, knowingly. "There were quite a lot of almosts..."

They smiled wistfully, each mentally revisiting the copious amount of water under the bridge.

Laura looked up at Robbie, carefully: "Well, seeing as tonight seems to be the night of grand revelations, I should tell you that..."

She paused.

"That what?"

"That the feeling... or such feelings as I think you articulated a moment ago... well, _the feeling_," this time it was Laura who gave the pointed stare, "is mutual."

She watched as a boyish grin spread over his face and his face coloured slightly.

"Good." His voice sounded small and quiet, but happy. "That's good to hear."

Each at a loss for words, they stood and stared at each other, both rather overwhelmed by the entire exchange.

"So..." Finally, Robbie broke the silence, "can I see you tomorrow?" His hands crept to Laura's waist, causing her to make a sharp intake of breath. She bit her lip, in part to quell the shudder he'd sent down her spine just by his touch and in part to suppress the smile of satisfaction evoked by him wanting to see her again so soon.

"I'll have to check my diary," she murmured, playfully, as his warm hands drew her towards him.

"Oh will you now?" He rolled his eyes, but smiled widely.

"How about lunch?" She relented.

"Perfect."

"The usual?"

"The usual..." He confirmed, referring to their customary lunch time routine of a sandwich and a stroll, "... except this time I'll get to kiss you."

"Oh will you now?" She teased, their faces already almost touching.

"Mmm." He narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps I should kiss you now just in case you change your mind?"

He felt her smile against his lips.

"Perhaps you should..."


	3. Chapter 3

**The morning after**

* * *

"Hello?"

"Oh, hiya love." Robbie smiled as she answered the phone, leaning back in his office chair. It was good to hear her voice, despite the slight thump it caused in his chest. "It's me."

"Dad... hi!" Miles away in Manchester, Lyn was dashing around her kitchen, trying to assemble some form of a packed lunch for the day. She tucked the phone against her shoulder, rummaging into the depths of the fridge. "Everything OK?" It was unusual for her father to ring her at this time in the morning: normally he would be at work by now, happily engrossed in something grizzly and sinister.

"Yes, pet - I'm fine." He sounded slightly strange, but not alarmingly so. "I'm sorry to ring you before work... have you got a minute?"

"Yeah, of course." She chirped, her tone of voice reminding him overwhelmingly of her mother. "Fire away! Nothing's wrong, I hope?"

"No, no... nothing's wrong."

"Good. You sound a bit... weird."

"Er... I'm just tired." This was the semi-truth; he hadn't slept all night.

"So, what is it?"

"Well..." Now that he was actually speaking to her, Robbie wondered whether this had been the right thing to do. Yes, Lyn was always asking about Laura - always encouraging him in her direction - but did he really need to tell her about this so soon? He had dialled her number without sufficient thought. He was acting on impulse: this was, of course, the confession that he needed to get off his chest before he could properly succumb to the elation that had been bubbling through him since last night. Now, the sound of his daughter's unsuspecting voice made him feel almost selfish.

"Dad? Are you there?" At the other end of the line, he could hear Lyn banging around in her kitchen cupboards.

"Yes. Yes. I'm here. I just..." _Don't __chicken out. _ "I just wanted to tell you something."

"You finally took Laura out on a date?"

He paused, completely taken aback by her intuition. "How did you know?"

"You did?! Dad! I was joking! Teasing you. But you did?!"

"Well, um... sort of."

Lyn gasped. "Wow!"

"I... er... just wanted to tell you."

"When?"

"Last night."

She hesitated, slowly absorbing the information. _The morning after. _

"And... how did it go?"

"Well, it wasn't really a date at first. I didn't intend it to be. It just sort of turned into one." His voice was tentative as he tested the water.

"Smooth, Dad, very smooth. Was it fish and chips again?"

"Ha, ha. No... we went to the Randolph, actually..."

"Ooh, _posh_. That had to be Laura's idea..."

"No, it was mine, I'll have you know." He relaxed slightly and managed an indignant laugh. The women in his life clearly felt they had him sussed: he smiled as he recalled the look of the slight surprise on Laura's face when he'd suggested it. The upmarket hotel bar was not one of their usual haunts.

"I'm impressed. So... it wasn't just a quick pint after work, then?"

"No..." His thoughts switched to the extra dousing of aftershave he had allowed himself before leaving home to meet her: the extra care spent shaving and choosing his tie, the extra check in the mirror. And then how nervously he'd waited for her in the bar, even at that early stage of the evening, before there was even a hint that anything was about to happen between them. Looking back, perhaps it had been obvious from the start.

"So, what happened? You had a few drinks..."

"Yes..." Although the alcohol had calmed his nerves, it had seemed to have the exact opposite effect on his senses; he'd been unable to tear his eyes from Laura from the moment she strolled, slightly self-consciously, into the bar.

"... and...?" He'd stood to greet her and they'd exchanged fond, but rather agitated smiles. As they had found a perch at the bar, his hand had lingered for a split second longer than necessary on the small of her back.

"...and we were talking about a case and, well,... I ended up saying some things." He recalled how effortlessly the words had slipped from him. Perhaps he had intended them all along.

"What things?"

This was the hard bit. Robbie paused as he tried to convert what had actually been said into something more palatable for Lyn. "That I'm, er..."

Predictably, the words were far from easy to say to his daughter.

"Ready to move on after mum?" Lyn had stopped raiding the cupboards in order to give her dad her full attention. Her voice was calm, the words unflinching.

Robbie frowned slightly. "Yes." He admitted, quietly, but his resolve was loud enough to hear.

"Good. Dad, that's good." Lyn leaned back against the kitchen cabinet, letting it take the weight of her contrasting emotions, so that her voice could sound how she wanted her dad to hear it.

"Is that what you really think or are you just saying it to be kind?"

"It's what I really think." This was the honest truth, but it didn't stop Lyn's throat from tightening slightly. "You know that. We've talked about it before." Lyn recalled the countless times she had spoken to her dad on the telephone, hearing the emptiness of his home in the background - sensing the feigned cheerfulness in his voice, the lack of a smile on his face, the solitude of a microwave meal for one in front of the telly - and longed for him to have someone. For all that encouraging her father towards Laura felt in any way like a betrayal of her mother, it was heavily outweighed by the desire to remove that gut-wrenching, empty silence that she heard at the other end of the phone. Lyn took a deep breath. "I think it's time... if you feel ready."

Robbie paused, detecting the bravado in her voice, but needing nonetheless to go on.

"I do. I've given it a lot of thought and I haven't rushed into this..."

"I know." Lyn set her jaw against the maelstrom of emotion in her gut. _Of course the reality was always going to be harder to stomach than the possibility._

"And, well, Laura... she is..." Her father exhaled as he struggled to find exactly the right words.

"... very special to you." Lyn finished the sentence for him. They'd always seemed able to talk this way - in more of a joint monologue than a conversation - ever since she was a little girl.

"Yes. Yes she is," He smiled, fleetingly. This was hard, but he needed to get it all out in the open. "... but it doesn't mean that I'll ever forget your mum."

"I know, Dad. Of course it doesn't."

"I still think about her. Every day. I miss her." He swung his chair to face the faded picture of him and Val, framed on the shelf behind him.

Lyn swallowed. "Me too."

"But... I think Laura could really make me happy again - not that I've been unhappy - with you, Pat and Jack, I've got so much to be grateful for..."

"It's OK, Dad. I know what you mean. You mean you want someone to be happy _with_."

"Yes. Yes, that's it." He sighed, lengthily. "You know, me and your mum... we were so happy. And I loved her so much. And, for a long time after she'd gone, I thought that was it - that was my share of happiness gone too. I thought I'd been so lucky that first time, it couldn't possibly happen again. But..."

Lyn closed her eyes. This really wasn't easy, but she owed it to him. "But Laura's made you think otherwise."

"Yes. It's taken me a while, but, yes. I think she could make me really happy. In fact, in lots of ways, she already does."

"Dad, that's... fantastic." Although the sentiment was genuine, her words were stilted.

"So why do you sound like you're about to cry?" For the first time in months, Robbie sensed the familiar tug of misery in his chest.

"I'm not about to cry..." Lyn breathed a pained laugh, which caused two tears to spill down her cheeks. "OK, well I am, but it's not because I'm sad, or cross or that I disapprove in any way. In fact, it's the opposite. I'm pleased for you, Dad, honestly. I hate how lonely you've been and how far away I am and I'm so glad you're thinking of moving on because I genuinely believe that's the only way you'll be happy again... properly happy... and I so want you to be happy... with Laura... because she's lovely... but..." She sniffed.

"... it means letting go of your mum." This time Robbie was the one to complete the monologue, his voice straining over the lump in his throat.

"Yeah." Lyn swept her hand hurriedly across her cheeks as though she didn't want her dad to see her tears.

"Don't cry, pet." He murmured.

"Sorry." She whispered.

He waited.

"I'd been preparing myself for this phone call." Lyn mumbled. "I told myself I wasn't going to cry. I don't want you to think I'm crying because I mind, Dad. Promise me you don't. I just... it's just... I wish she was here." A sob rose in her throat. "I miss my Mum."

"I know." Robbie's eyes were red, as, for what seemed like the thousandth time since his daughter moved away, he wished she was in his arms. He listened, helplessly, as Lyn's tears emerged in several sighs down the phone. Grief was a bastard. Even after all this time.

At length she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Dad. This isn't how I planned to react to this news when it came."

"It's OK, pet. I understand. Even though we've talked about it, hearing this can't be easy. Perhaps I shouldn't have rung..."

"No. No! I'm glad you rang me. It's just a funny feeling. I feel happy for you, but sad for Mum. It's like another part of her is slipping away from me, but at the same time I'm getting a bit of you back. I'm sorry for crying... I feel so... strange..."

"It's OK, pet. Like your wonderful mum always used to say, 'You can't help the way you feel.'"

"Yes. Yes, she did. And she was so right. In fact, that's actually what she's probably saying right now, if she's listening." Lyn smiled through a hiccuped sob.

"I wonder if she's listening..." Robbie reached out to pick up the photo of Val.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"She'd want you to be happy too."

He swallowed, the words hitting him squarely from the one person who mattered. "You think? Everyone always says that, but..."

"Yes, Dad. I'm her daughter. And I know she'd want that."

Robbie smiled. In spite of the tears and the ache in his chest, he felt monumental relief: these were the words he'd so wanted to hear from Lyn. "Thank you." He murmured. "Thank you for saying that."

The weight of emotion in her dad's voice sent a sobering wave through Lyn. She inhaled deeply and drew herself up from the cabinet, reaching for some kitchen towel upon which to dry her eyes and nose. She needed to be strong for her dad. She wanted to do this for him.

"I think mum would like Laura." She ventured, quietly.

Although pained, Robbie smiled. "I hope so."

"And _you_ like Laura...?"

"I do." It surprised him that, even in the midst of such emotion, he was wholly convinced of this fact.

"And she likes you?" It was the natural, protective daughter question, but, deep down, Lyn already knew the answer. She'd met Laura once or twice over the years, but it wasn't this that gave her the confidence in the affirmative. Laura had only ever behaved in an appropriate way towards her father when Lyn had been present: there was evidence of a firm friendship in their interaction, but nothing more. However, Lyn had long since come to suspect there was something more than fondness in Laura's constant presence in her father's life. Whenever something went wrong... or right, Laura seemed to be there. He talked about her. Constantly. And then there were all those times when Lyn would ring and interrupt her dad and Laura in the middle of a jaunt to the pub or a late stint at work. He'd always insist they were discussing a case, but somehow Lyn found it hard to believe. Laura was good for him. However she might be feeling right now, Lyn would always be grateful to Laura for that.

"I _think_ she likes me." Robbie responded. As he spoke, Lyn was relieved to hear a smile return to her father's voice. "I hope she does."

"So, what exactly did you say to her last night?"

Robbie's chest filled with a swell of gratitude as he acknowledged the effort that Lyn was making with this conversation.

"Oh... I said something highly profound about being ready to turn the page on a new chapter..."

"Cheesy... but I guess sort of romantic." Lyn managed a laugh, the sound of which sent a further wave of reassurance through her father. He responded in kind.

"It was the best I could do."

"And... what did she say?"

"I think at first she was a bit shocked." Robbie's remembered the strange calm he'd felt as he'd uttered the words to Laura. The words had come so willingly, easily extracted from him by the emotional forcefield that had seemed to surround them. She had been looking at him so straightly, with that familiar mixture of affection and despair awash in her eyes. _It__ doesn't seem to get any easier, does it?_ She had protested. And how good it had felt finally to disagree, to tell her he was ready: lingering over the eye contact as he said it, the lightness in his voice divulging the weight that had been lifted from his shoulders. He smiled as he recalled Laura's reaction: she had blinked and taken a hasty swig of her drink, but neither of these attempted diversions could hide her grin.

"But... eventually, she came round." He added.

"And did anything happen?"

Robbie's face coloured slightly at the memory of the moment that he and Laura had finally put paid to any lingering uncertainty. "Erm... I'm not sure that topic of conversation is within the father-daughter remit."

"Oh come on, Dad. You can tell me."

Again, he cleared his throat. "Well, yes. We... um... kissed."

"Well, well, well..." Lyn's tone was beginning to return to its initial joviality and he could hear a small smile in her voice.

"But that's all!" Robbie blurted, eager to reassure his daughter, but his brain involuntarily flooding with potent recollections of something that was far, far from being adequately described as 'that's all.'

Lyn laughed. "OK, I'm with you. I don't need to know any more than that. So when are you next seeing her?"

The butterflies that had been trampled by the earlier turn of conversation began to resurface in Robbie's stomach. "Hopefully for lunch today. We'll just grab a sandwich."

"Dad... you can do better than that."

"What? That's what we always do."

"Exactly! You need to think of something _different_. Surprise her. You don't want her to think you're boring."

"She's known me for over a decade, Lyn. I think she knows I'm boring."

"Don't be daft. Think of something fun you can do together..."

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the wail of a toddler, as Lyn's husband bought their tearful son into the room. "Sorry, Dad, Jack's crying... and we're not really ready for work... or nursery - I should probably get going."

Robbie checked his watch. "Crikey. Yeah, me too."

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for telling me."

"Hmm."

"No, really. Thank you. I'm glad. I've been wanting this to happen for you for a long time. And, whilst it was always going to be a bit 'emotional', I hope you know that I want nothing more than for you to be happy. And if Laura makes you happy, then everything - and I mean everything - is all right with me."

"Thank you, love. It means a lot to hear you say that."

"Hey, Jack," Lyn cooed to her son, taking him into her arms and bobbing him up and down on her hip. "Grandad's got a a new friend called Laura. _Laura._ Can you say _Laura_?"

On the other end of the line, Robbie felt his heart swell.

"Is everything ok with the little fella?" He asked, at length.

"Yeah, he's fine. He says hello and sends you a snotty kiss."

"Lucky me."

"Yes, lucky you - although it sounds like perhaps he'll have to join the queue." Lyn teased, happy to feel the tension dissipating.

"Ha ha."

"Dad..." Her voice was suddenly serious again. "Maybe we could come down and see you... and Laura too... sometime soon?"

"I'd love that, Lyn."

"I'll check my work diary. I think I could manage to get a couple of days off. We could make a long weekend of it..."

"Just name the date. Any date."

"OK. I'll look into it. Right, now I really have to go!"

"OK, love."

"Listen, Dad. I really am pleased for you. You deserve it. Don't overthink it, will you? Just go for it. Just... enjoy it."

"I'll try."

"And give Laura my love."

"I will."

"Love you."

"I love you too, pet."

"OK, bye."

"Bye, love. Bye."


	4. Chapter 4

As he ordered two coffees en route to the mortuary later that morning, without even having to think about what Laura's preference would be, Robbie realised that he had no legitimate excuse for going to see her, professionally or otherwise. Having spent the previous three hours going round in circles on the case, he supposed he could tell her that, in Hathaway's absence, he needed someone to talk to. A sounding board. His conversation with Lyn also lingered heavily on his mind: despite its happy outcome, he felt a little bruised. The thought of Laura soothed him: the sight of her, the sound of her, the feel of her. Perhaps he didn't need an excuse. _Any more_. Perhaps, she would just know that he simply wanted to see her.

And she did. As he tapped on the glass of the lab she was working in, proffering the two cups of coffee, she turned towards the noise, somewhat indignantly at first. Then she registered his identity and her face softened: not into a full-blown smile - that would be far too obvious in front of her colleagues - but into a knowing look. She slipped from her chair and joined him in the corridor. As she took her coffee from him, he glanced down at her, his professional demeanour yielding almost imperceptibly to an expression that betrayed the events of the previous night. She leant back against the lab window, straight-faced.

They began to talk about the case and he soon realised that he had been right to come. The momentary distraction of seeing her had cleared his thoughts and suddenly it all seemed to click into place. _Repatriation_. A quick call to Hathaway and things were moving again.

"I should probably get going." He said eventually - reluctantly - glancing down at her over his coffee. He pondered how enjoyably strange it was talking to her in the corridor at work as they always had, when in fact everything between them had shifted.

"Thanks for the coffee." She looked up at him and, finally, for the briefest of moments, their eyes properly connected. An electric current seemed to thrum into life between them.

He glanced along the corridor before lowering his voice slightly. "Did you sleep OK?"

"Nope." Poker-faced, but eyes dancing, she didn't hesitate over her answer. "You?"

"Not a wink."

She inhaled slowly, a wry smile playing on her lips. He reciprocated with a complicit grin.

The lab door swung open and one of her colleagues emerged into the corridor.

Laura cleared her throat: "I'm sorry to hear that, Inspector." The poker face was back, along with the teasing sparkle in her eyes.

He smirked and nodded.

Robbie waited for the coast to clear before continuing.

"Listen, I'm sorry, but lunch might be a bit difficult."

"Oh. OK." She tried to hide her disappointment.

"But how about getting some fresh air after your shift finishes? I'm in for the long haul tonight, I think, but it'll be nice to have a break... with you."

She smiled and nodded. "OK."

"Text me when you finish?"

"I will."

"See you later, then." He leaned ever so slightly towards her and she felt a jolt in her chest.

"See you." For a second, neither of them moved. Then he flashed her a boyish grin and headed off down the corridor.

* * *

Much later, they met on the steps of the station. As she approached, Laura stole a moment to look at him properly: his tall, once lanky figure draped in a suit; his greying hair; his hands thrust deep into his pockets as he leaned against the railing, pondering something, waiting for her. She could not count the number of times previously that her heart had leapt just at the sight of him. Yet, this time was different. This time she was allowed to look at him like this. The thought caused a grin to spread over her cheeks as she bounced up the steps to meet him.

"Hello, Doctor Hobson." His face altered as soon as he saw her, breaking into a wide smile that matched the one he had immediately noticed from her. This, _this,_ was what he'd been thinking of when speaking to Jack Cornish's wife earlier.

"Hello, Inspector." She tilted her head to one side as she looked up at him, everything in her being gravitating towards him, but somehow managing to maintain an appropriate distance.

"Shall we?" He gestured away from the station, away from prying eyes.

"Yes, let's."

As they walked, they exchanged anecdotes about their respective working days and Robbie felt the tension that the case had wrapped up in his shoulders temporarily begin to loosen. He kept looking down at her, itching to take her hand, as he had done by the canal, but for some reason feeling a little shy.

Laura too was longing to touch him - to thread her arm through his or slip her hand into his palm - but a strange kind of nervousness had descended upon her also. It was as though they both were struggling to find the middle ground between their professional demeanours and the full-on falling into each other of last night.

At length, they came to a bridge over the river and Robbie paused, lolling against it, the case still heavy on his mind. Laura took a spot on the wall just a little way from him, but close enough. They were still talking about work and had not yet mentioned the happenings of the previous evening. Silently, the nervous friction between them continued to simmer.

"..you'll put a stop to that." She said, referring to Jack Cornish's drug-related activities.

"Well, we've closed the factory. Still got to nail Faulkner and his mates."

"You will." She said it so simply. So certainly.

Robbie smiled in acceptance of her confidence in him as well as the opportunity to broach the subject that was so clearly on each of their minds.

"Yeah, and when I do... do you fancy a ride one night after work?"

She shot him a quizzical glance.

"A ride?"

Her brow furrowed into an uncertain frown.

"What?" He looked at her disbelieving but amused expression and confusion spread across his face before he realised what he had said. He sighed with affectionate exasperation. "I mean a _bike_ ride."

Laura looked down at her hands, failing spectacularly to hide her smirk.

"There's a bike hire shop..." He continued, straightening up awkwardly and looking down at her through narrowed, but helplessly fond eyes. He knew she would be enjoying seeing him squirm.

"Robbie!" The giggles had started. "You on a bike?!"

"Mmm." He nodded, smiling, the alarm of having said something so unintentionally suggestive beginning to dissipate. She moved towards him, slipping her hands around his waist and then up to hide her face, his accidental innuendo having caused her cheeks to flush. Until that moment, they'd been avoiding touching each other and something about the sudden, but much-anticipated physical contact seemed to quieten their nerves. They laughed, properly, relaxing against each other.

As she withdrew from his hold to look up at him, the electricity of last night zinged into life between them. The reciprocated warmth in her expression gave him the courage to kiss her, lingeringly, on the cheek. As he did so, she bit her lip. It was as though the past 24 hours had been formed entirely from her daydreams.

"Do you really want to go on a bike ride?" She teased him, gently, fiddling with his tie, as he held her against him.

He shrugged, jovially. "I was just trying to think of something different for us to do. Lyn said.."

"You've told Lyn?" Abruptly, Laura stopped fiddling.

"Yes." He admitted, cursing himself inwardly. Apparently, having Laura this close stopped him from thinking before opening his mouth. "Is that... um... OK?"

"Of course. I'm just surprised you did." Evidently, the surprises from Robbie would keep coming. "So soon."

"Too soon?" He was out of practice at this. Thinking for two.

"No. Not at all. I just..."

He tightened his hold on her as she stilled slightly in his arms. The smile slid from her face and the familiar piercing grey flared in her eyes.

"I just wanted to tell her about it." He offered, almost apologetically.

Laura hesitated.

"What did she say?"

Robbie registered the concern on her face and smiled. _Oh, so this isn't about not keeping secrets_. "Relax, Laura. She was pleased."

"She was?"

"Yeah. Of course, it was a bit of a strange conversation to be having, but she's been on at me for ages about you."

"She has?" Laura was slightly stunned, but Robbie could see the relief in her eyes.

Robbie laughed. "Yes. Although I don't know why... With a mind in the gutter like yours when I suggest going for a _bike _ride perhaps she'd expect me to make a more ladylike choice." This time it was his turn to tease.

"Robbie!"

"I'm kidding." He squeezed her, reassuringly. "Lyn thinks you're great. And, ultimately, she wants me to be happy... which I am." Again that electrifying eye contact resumed. "I really, really am."

"That's good to hear." Laura mumbled, her cheeks colouring again.

"But then she gave me a bit of a lecture."

"What about?"

"About doing things properly."

"Meaning?"

"Well," he placed another delicious kiss on Laura's temple as he contemplated what his daughter had been getting at. "I think she was referring to the extra effort you have to put in when you've fallen for your best friend."

Laura's stomach twisted.

"You've fallen for James?" She couldn't resist the quip, but, as she looked up at Robbie, her face evidenced how this particular comment made her feel.

"Ha, ha." He rolled his eyes at her. "But, seriously, I think she's right - just because someone knows you better than probably anyone else, you shouldn't take that for granted." He kissed her again in the same place. "Basically, she was saying I still have to woo you."

Laura giggled. "To woo me." She repeated, hazily accepting the press of his lips to her skin. _Well, it seems to be working, Robbie._

"Hence the bike ride suggestion. I was trying to think of something different we could do..."

"It certainly would be _different_..." Laura raised her eyebrows, sardonically, once again tickled by the thought of Robbie on two wheels.

"Or maybe something a bit more suave and sophisticated... maybe we should look into Glyndebourne again?"

"Maybe..."

"But in any case, she specifically banned me from taking you for fish and chips."

"Why?! I love our little fish and chip outings."

"Me too."

"You and I have a lot of fish and chip history. In fact, over a bag of fish and chips is probably when I first..."

She stopped short and he raised his eyebrows: evidently he was not alone in his proximity-based candour. It was the very same look he'd thrown her days before when they'd met in the University Parks to discuss the antemortem bruising on Dr Whitby and she'd placed her hands on his shoulders to demonstrate, bringing them close. Too close. It was a look that said _you've slightly overstepped the mark here, which amuses me... but, at the same time, I don't want you to stop_. She experienced the same catching of breath.

"Well," She cleared her throat and looked away. "I'm just saying there is nothing wrong with fish and chips."

"_Right._" This time it was Robbie with the wistful smirk.

Laura registered his expression giddily. It was amazing how at ease he seemed to be with this. How certain. It was all so uncharacteristic and - she had to admit it - unexpectedly alluring.

"That said..." She murmured, playfully. "If you did want to take me somewhere terribly posh and extravagant..."

"Mmm?"

"And wine and dine me..." She was pulling on the lapels of his suit jacket and he was not resisting.

"Mmm?" The noise of the ducks and swans in the river below was beginning to fade out as everything distilled down into their focus on each other's face.

"Well maybe..." She hesitated. She didn't know if she dared say it.

"Maybe we might go for more than a bike ride?"

She smiled, wickedly, and he felt his insides twist.

"Maybe." She murmured, before her lips found his at last.


	5. Chapter 5

They lingered on the bridge, each enjoying the proximity of the other. Their conversation was comfortably disjointed, peppered with mundane chatter and punctuated by drawn-out glances, as they each adjusted to the long-awaited reality of this simple intimacy.

"I should be getting back…" Robbie sighed, eventually.

"Mmm, I suppose we wouldn't want Innocent asking any awkward questions."

With an unashamedly contented smile, he took Laura's hand and began to lead them back in the direct of the police station.

"No, we wouldn't. But I am entitled to _some_ down time… Goodness knows I've put in enough hours on this case, especially whilst babysitting Gray."

"I hope you're not being too hard on him, Robbie." She threw him a pointed glance. "Besides, if James were here, there'd be no chance of you getting away with _this_." Laura looked down at their entwined hands.

He smiled, wryly, before raising the back of her hand to his lips. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"I take it you haven't told him…"

"Nah." Robbie grimaced slightly at the prospect of the erudite mocking and supercilious looks he would no doubt be receiving from Hathaway as soon as he heard the news. "I think I might avoid opening that particular can of worms for a little while, if it's OK with you."

"Of course…"

"It's not that I want to keep you… us… a secret." He added, hurriedly. "It's just… you know James…"

"I know James." She replied, herself well aware of the oratorical mischief that they could both expect from Robbie's junior officer.

"Besides, in some ways it's nice that it's just between you and me at the moment."

"And Lyn." She teased.

"Yes, and Lyn." He accepted her point, safe in the knowledge that she didn't really mind that he'd spoken to his daughter. "But, seriously, we should give ourselves chance to settle into it first."

Walking alongside Robbie through balmy Oxford, his warm hand in hers, Laura felt more settled than she had in a long, long time. "OK."

"That is what you want, isn't it?"

Laura looked up at him questioningly. "Yes, I think that's sensible. After all, it's very early days… it was only last night that we..."

"No, I don't mean that." He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. "I mean you want there to be an us?"

She frowned. She felt she had made that rather obvious, both last night and a few moments ago. Sometimes it astounded her that someone so perceptive as Robbie needed things to be spelled out.

"Robbie." She scoffed. "Were you not there last night?" For the umpteenth time, the memory of clinging to him as he pinned her against the wall in a darkened doorway thundered through her.

"Yes," his face too flooded with an elated smile, "yes – and I've been thanking my lucky stars all day that I was…"

"Or just then on the bridge…?"

"Well, of course, but…"

"Or right here now?" She drew close to him again and he looked down at her, tenderly.

"Yes, but even I'm not old-fashioned enough to think that all this will definitely lead to a relationship…" He stopped himself. "Sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself again."

He grimaced in agitation.

"Robbie, relax."

"Sorry. It's just that this feels so right… and I feel that I've already wasted so much time… but I don't want to rush you…"

"Shh…" Once again, Laura slid her arms around him. "You're not rushing me."

The gentle, comforting sound of her voice visibly soothed him.

"Are you sure?"

"Robbie, you and I have danced around this for so long."

He winced.

"That's not a criticism of you!" She continued. "It takes two to tango, as they say. I've known what I was getting myself into. For years. I knew that you were…"

"Damaged goods?"

"_Unavailable_." Again, there was that firm, but reassuring tone. "But it didn't stop me from wanting to get closer to you. Of course, the closer we got, the more I wished for us to be more than friends… but, ultimately, I knew that probably wasn't going to happen. You don't need to feel guilty about it. I am a grown up: I knew full well what I was letting myself in for."

"But there were definitely times when things weren't so black and white. When I said things… did things…"

Laura laughed, knowingly. "Yes. There were lots of times when… um… the signals weren't entirely clear." She smiled up at him, rolling her eyes. "But I always knew you didn't do it on purpose."

"Lack of intent isn't always a defence."

"It's water under the bridge. Trust me."

"And now?"

"Now you seem to be making up for lost time." She pursed her lips into that characteristically twinkling smile of hers.

"And you're happy with that?"

"Robbie, I'm more than happy with that."

"I'm not coming on too strong?"

Laura laughed, genuinely tickled by the contrast between Robbie's romantic over-enthusiasm and the previous years of hesitance. "You couldn't if you tried."

By now, they had strayed from the secluded bridge and were surrounded by the customary bustle of central Oxford. Without hesitation, or even so much as a glance around him, Robbie urged her arms up around his neck and kissed her with an urgency that contrasted starkly with the lazy tenderness of their embrace on the bridge. Laura found herself up on her tiptoes, again, firmly fixed against him, once more threatening to lose her grip on her senses. He really did seem to be trying to make up for lost time... and she certainly wasn't objecting.

He withdrew to hold her, to look at her properly. She blinked: her head still swimming.

"Someone might see…" she smiled, dazedly, up at him.

"I know, but I couldn't help it. You have this effect on me…"

Just then his mobile phone chirruped into life.

"Busted." She smirked and withdrew from his arms.

He smiled in amusement, retrieving his phone from his pocket and noting the caller ID.

"Yes, Gray?" His voice was clipped and, as he listened to the detective constable's voice, he rolled his eyes impatiently at Laura.

"Be nice." She mouthed.

He relented. "OK, Gray – what you've done sounds fine. I'll be back at the station shortly and we can go through the interview prep together."

Laura gave him a playfully judgemental thumbs-up, which he batted away, before continuing: "I'll see you in 10 minutes. Thank you for the update."

He finished the call and replaced the phone in his pocket. He and Laura had now fallen back into step, heading back towards the station.

"See, that wasn't so hard was it?'

"I know. He's alright, really." Something about Grey was oddly familiar, but Robbie couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"That was you once. All wet behind the ears."

"Yeah. But I certainly didn't get _my_ hand held."

They each smiled as they recalled the brusque bluster of Robbie's former superior.

"I always imagined Morse had a softer side." Laura mused.

"Is that why you used to flirt with him outrageously?"

"I didn't!"

"You did. Fortunately I was a happily married man at the time, or else you would have made me horribly jealous."

He elbowed her gently, knocking her off balance.

"Now who's flirting?" She laughed.

"Well, we're almost back at work and I can't hold your hand, so I'll have to make do with teasing you instead."

"Like a love-struck school boy?"

He smiled at the perceptiveness of her comment: "Laura Hobson, I may be approaching retirement, but that's exactly how you make me feel."

She grinned at the compliment and with aching gladness to hear that she wasn't alone on Cloud Nine.

"So… here we are again." He thrust his hands into his pockets. They had reached the station steps and stood a safe distance from each other.

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

"Robbie?"

"Yeah?"

"Hurry up and get Faulkner, won't you?"


	6. Chapter 6

"Well…!" Ellen exclaimed. She and Laura were huddled over steaming coffees and a pair of fresh-from-the oven scones in the corner of their favourite artisan café. Laura's news had caught her off-guard and Ellen nursed her cappuccino in both hands, tapping the ceramic handle contemplatively with long, elegant fingers.

Laura waited, her eyes scanning her friends' for a reaction, her own face unforthcoming.

"You and Robbie…"

Laura remained silent. She felt certain she could anticipate Ellen's reaction, given the last time her friend and Robbie's paths had crossed. Being a hapless romantic and having endured hours of Laura's musings on the topic, Ellen had fawned over Robbie at their first encounter in Laura's kitchen, all those years ago. _Oh, that accent. Those sad eyes. Oh yes, I can see what you see. _However, her view of Robbie had soured irrevocably after his line of questioning had all but accused Laura of murdering their best friend. After her own initially scorching anger had subsided, Laura had defended and ultimately forgiven him, but Ellen remained unconvinced, her misgivings only compounded by the way in which the case had concluded.

"The man who left you 6 feet under so he could go gallivanting off after those lunatics?"

Ellen was talking to herself. Nothing but a hint of a frown passed over Laura's face as she awaited the inevitable tirade. She and Ellen had been through this a million times. _He didn't leave me. Hathaway was there to help me. To wipe the dirt-smeared tears and snot from my face. To hold me as I shook uncontrollably and my heart beat so violently it felt like it would erupt through my ribcage. To gently untie my hands and feet as I clung to him like a desperate child. To lift me firmly out of that hell hole and back above ground. Yes, of course, I wanted it to be Robbie. Of course I did. But I understand why it wasn't. I understand why he had to go after them._

"He left you in a GRAVE, Laura… just so he could claim the glory…"

_It wasn't about the glory. You don't know Robbie. You haven't listened to a word I've told you about him. He left me because he had to. Yes, it was partly his professional instinct that drove him after the twins. But it was mainly something else, something far more powerful: his regret. You could cut the man open and he would bleed bitter remorse; it runs in his veins. He hadn't been able to catch Val's killer. He hadn't had chance to run them down, to stop them from disappearing into the faceless crowd. He hadn't been able to bring them to justice. And it almost killed him. It ate away at him. Every day. It had driven him to the empty, numbing solace of drink and to the darkest recesses of depression. It had threatened to defeat him. Until, over time, it became part of him. Now it powers him. Drives him onwards. He'd never let someone slip away from the scene as the driver of that car had done. He'd never allow someone to disappear. Ever. It was his promise to Val. And, although it didn't feel like it at the time, I know that, in a mixed up sort of way, it was his promise to me. _

"… the man who thought you could have murdered Ligeia?" Ellen's scoffing outrage continued.

Laura sighed.

"The man who has been playing you for a fool all these years? Stringing you along, rendering you incapable of upholding any sort of meaningful relationship with anyone else… at his beck and call, day or night…"

"OK, Ellie, I get it." Eventually, Laura gave in. "You don't approve."

"I'm just struggling to understand. After all that happened after Ligeia…"

"You seem to be forgetting that, had it not been for Robbie, I most probably would be dead by now." Laura attempted to shrug off the sickening prickle at the back of her neck that surfaced inevitably. _Focus on your breath. The fresh air you are breathing right now. _She grappled for the sound of her therapists' voice amongst the rising cacophony of panic in her brain. Even after all this time, this was far from being an easy topic of conversation.

"Yes." Ellen could not deny this fact. "Well."

They sat in silence. Laura focused hard on skimming the milky froth of her cappuccino with her teaspoon.

"So, what's changed? Why now?" Ellen's tone shifted down a notch as she noted the sudden pallor of Laura's cheeks.

"I suppose time has changed. Time has passed. And... he's ready." Laura readily accepted the slight change of subject.

"Oh is he now?" Ellen made little attempt to hide a contemptuous laugh. "That's convenient. And you believe him?"

"Come on, Ellie. Give me some credit. You of all people can't judge me for wanting to believe him." _You've mooned hopelessly after Alec for most of your adult life._

Ellen smiled, knowingly. "I wondered how long it would be before that comparison was made."

"As far as I'm concerned, that's where the comparison stops." Despite this conversation being full of their usual quipped banter, Laura could feel herself becoming defensive. "Robbie is the complete opposite of Alec."

"How can you be so sure? He's done a good job of stringing you along all these years."

"He hasn't strung me along!"

"Oh, come off it, Laura. Remember the failed trip to Glyndebourne that was never rescheduled? The talk of 'wasting chances' after you two had fallen out over your non-date with Franco? The jealousy over that divine DI… what was his name? Peter something? All the flirting, the knowing glances, the pints after work, the heart-to-hearts… all those suggestions, signs… that came to _nothing_?"

"Until now."

"That's not the point. This man has a track record of messing you around."

"He didn't do it intentionally…"

"Laura, you should hear yourself! Yes, Alec is more obvious – and usually inebriated – in his womanizing ways… but, ultimately, Robbie doesn't sound that different."

Laura held her tongue. She and Ellen were ancient sparring partners, but she knew the rules. A no-holds-barred character assassination of the love of Ellie's life would not be in order. Instead, she played the card with which she knew Ellie could have no argument.

"You can think what you like, Ellie. Yes, he may not be perfect. Yes, he may not always have been clear in his affections. Yes, he did leave me in a grave whilst he chased after some homicidal maniacs. But, I don't care because…" Laura hesitated (although it was true, it felt strange to say it aloud), "I'm in love with him"

Ellen sighed, heavily and with resignation. "I know."

"And there's nothing I can do about it." Laura smiled, involuntarily. "Believe me, I've tried."

At this, Ellen couldn't help but laugh. "What a pair we are."

"Both pushing 50 and still chasing after the unattainable."

"But, alas, we were never destined to be dutiful wives. Cleaning, cooking… and doting. That much has been clear all along."

"Amen to that." Laura raised her cappuccino in acknowledgement.

They paused to take a mouthful of scone, jam and cream, each silently mulling over their pasts.

"But I think this time…" Laura waved her fork thoughtfully as she spoke.

"Don't say it!"

Laura smiled, "I'm sorry, Ellie, but I think this time _is_ different."

"Urgh!" Ellen groaned.

"_Robbie's _different."

"Hmm."

"The way I feel about him is different." Laura's stomach twisted just at the thought. "I mean, I _know_ all of his faults and foibles already. And I like him in spite of them."

Ellen shrugged, helplessly. Laura continued:

"And, he doesn't make me feel like I have to be something I'm not. Nor does he feel threatened by me. He's at ease with himself. And he makes me feel at ease with myself."

"Perhaps that just comes with age."

"No, it's more than that. We just _get_ each other."

Suddenly Laura's phone vibrated. She fished it from her jacket pocket, smiling as she noted the sender ID: 'Faulkner nailed. Well and truly. Fancy a celebratory pint later – 6pm White Horse? X PS Don't listen to Ellen. She's got no taste in men.'

Laura laughed. She had told Robbie about the likely reception their news would receive from her best friend. Apologising to Ellen for using her phone at the table, she quickly composed her reply: 'Well done - knew you would. Celebratory pint sounds lovely. See you there... unless Ellen convinces me otherwise x'

Ellen watched her friend's transformational smile with envy. "Talk of the devil?" She enquired, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah. He's just wrapped up that case I was telling you about. We're meeting for a drink in a bit." Laura hastily returned her phone to her jacket pocket. "You should come…" She suggested.

"No, thank you. I've already made plans."

Secretly, Laura was pleased – she wanted Robbie all to herself, having not spent any significant time with him as he had laboured with the final furlong of the case.

"… and, besides, I can think of better ways to spend my evening than being a total gooseberry."

"You wouldn't be a gooseberry. We're capable of keeping our hands off each other for a pint in the pub, you know!"

Ellen raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "So, you've had your hands _on_ each other already?"

Laura regarded her friend, cooly.

"Well. We haven't slept together, if that's what you're implying. But we have, well…" She deliberately left the sentence incomplete, helpless to the coy upturning of the corner of her mouth. She had thought of practically nothing else all day.

"I see. And how was it?"

Laura grinned. "Amazing."

Ellen sighed wistfully and looked directly at Laura. "You know that, secretly… underneath all the protective best friend bravado, I'm really pleased for you, don't you?"

"I know." Laura _did_ know. Ever since their university days, she and Ellen had been fierce friends but equally fierce competitors, academically and romantically.

"Obviously, I'm obscenely envious."

"Obviously."

"And so I have secretly to hope that he will break your heart."

"Of course."

"But I'm glad you're so happy."

"Thank you, Ellie." Laura reached over the table to squeeze her friend's hand.

* * *

Not having time to return home before meeting Robbie, Laura left Ellen at the table whilst she slipped into the ladies' room to check her appearance. At Ellen's insistence, she had borrowed her makeup case so as to 'freshen up' whilst enduring the customary, weary rebuke for never carrying a handbag. Laura regarded herself in the mirror, her face bearing the glow of the summer sun, her entire being alive with anticipation of seeing him. She felt good. She felt confident. She knew what she would do as soon as she saw him.

Back at their table, Ellen stared dejectedly out of the window. Unnoticed, Laura's phone vibrated again with a text message from Robbie:

'Just a head's up: Innocent and Hathaway are joining us for a pint. Emphasis on A pint. Then we can discreetly make our separate excuses and I can have you all to myself. x'


	7. Chapter 7

Well. That had not gone exactly as planned.

Laura had spotted Robbie as soon as she walked into the pub, absorbing with a smile the relaxation and satisfaction in his body language. He'd closed yet another case and, together with her usual feeling of happiness for him, she identified a new emotion: pride. Perhaps he was not the most dynamic or high-powered DI in the force, but he had a way about him. No one could deny the combined potency of his talent and experience. And, more importantly, today he was hers to be proud of. She intended to show him exactly that.

As she strode purposefully towards him and he registered her presence, his lips parted slightly as though he had something to say. But, throwing her arms around his neck, she resolved to render him speechless. And she succeeded: it took him a moment or two to respond, but soon she felt his hands on her waist and the increasingly familiar, gentle answer of his lips to hers. She kissed him deeply, indifferent to the sensibilities of the faceless White Horse punters around them, concerned only with one thing: Robbie.

When she withdrew to tell him she had been thinking of doing this all day, he smiled knowingly and confirmed, "Same here." Then he kissed her again, firmly and unreservedly, before stopping to nod in the direction of the table at which they were standing.

_Ah._

Laura felt her cheeks flare as she registered the presence not only of Innocent, but also of Hathaway, at the table. Of course, they had witnessed the entire uninhibited exchange. Innocent's face bore her trademark sardonic smirk, as she quickly closed her mouth, which had dropped open in surprise. Hathaway seemed to have coloured and was looking up at them enquiringly.

"Gosh… James, you're sunburnt." Laura blurted out the first thing that came into her head, withdrawing from Robbie's arms as though she'd received a minor electric shock.

"Thank you."

Robbie was smiling at Hathaway, clearly amused and seemingly unperturbed by the awkwardness of the scenario. _Why hadn't he stopped her? _He retained his stance, only letting his hands fall from her waist once she had stepped backwards.

"I… I'll get the drinks in." Laura stammered. Involuntarily, her hand reached out for the lapel of Robbie's jacket. _Sorry._

"No, no… we'll _both_ get them." He was looking at her now, amused but sensing her worry, and hoping the tone of his voice would reassure her.

She stumbled away towards the bar, her cheeks now searing with embarrassment and her ears ringing slightly. She giggled, nervously, as Robbie slid beside her, taking her hand firmly in his and giving it a squeeze. He laughed as she shook her head with mortification.

"I'm sorry!" She breathed.

"I'm not!" He laughed again. "That was brilliant. It takes a lot to stump either James or Innocent, but you managed both at the same time. Their faces!" He shook his head in disbelief.

"But you said…" _It was too soon to tell people. _

"I know…" Totally at ease, he pressed a quick kiss into her hair. "It doesn't matter."

"I honestly didn't know they were there!"

"Did you not get my text?"

"What text?" Frowning, she rummaged for her phone in her jacket pocket. As she withdrew it, she glimpsed the unread message.

Robbie raised his eyebrows and smirked. "_That_ text."

_Oh._

Laura bit her lip, cursing herself, as Robbie's arm slid round her waist to draw her closer to him. "Stop frowning, you. I said it doesn't matter." He murmured.

"Why didn't you stop me?"

Robbie hesitated and she glanced up at him. He shrugged, "I didn't want to."

Despite her overwhelming embarrassment, Laura couldn't suppress a smile.

The bar tender interrupted them to take their order. Laura asked for a double gin and tonic.

"Steady on! It's only 6 o'clock." Robbie teased.

"I need it." She nodded back towards the table. "In order to bear the inevitable witty repartee."

"Aw, their bark is generally worse than their bite. You know that."

"Hmm… we'll see."

Robbie paid for their drinks as Laura took a hefty swig.

"Courage, dear heart." Robbie whispered into her ear, mockingly.

"Christ, Robbie!" Laura almost spluttered. "The last thing I need right now is for you to discover literary quotation!" She took another gulp.

"_Dutch_ courage… evidently." Robbie quipped, as he watched her. "I'm not sure that's what C.S. Lewis was referring to."

"Sod C.S. Lewis."

"You ready to face the music?" He gestured back towards the table, but not before placing a reassuring hand on the small of her back.

"I'd prefer to go home."

"Well, you can't."

* * *

Back at the table, having regained their composure, Hathaway and Innocent eagerly awaited the pair's return, like two lions lying in wait for their prey. As Robbie and Laura rejoined them, the Chief Super and Sergeant looked up expectantly, quite deliberately not deep in conversation. Robbie saw that Laura was settled into her seat next to Innocent, before taking the chair next to Hathaway.

For a moment, no one spoke. Laura marveled at how unflustered Robbie appeared, when her own cheeks felt like they were radioactively red.

"I'm sorry." She began, addressing the tabletop, rather than her colleagues. "I didn't know you were both here."

"Evidently!" Hathaway snorted.

"No need to apologise." Innocent's tone was saccharine, to match her gleeful smile.

Laura looked plaintively at Robbie, but clearly he didn't plan on doing the talking: the three seasoned detectives let the silence hang. Unbearably.

Ultimately, Laura could stand it no longer. Knowing she was taking the bait, but equally willing to put an end to this squirming awkwardness, she spoke:

"I… we… Robbie and I… um..." her first attempt at an explanation trailed off miserably.

"Goodness me, Doctor Hobson, has the cat got your tongue?" Innocent adopted a tone of mock concern.

"I think, upon the evidence, Ma'am, it is perhaps not the cat under suspicion here." Hathaway interjected, his face deadpan, but his voice full of mirth as he glanced sideways at Robbie.

Laura rolled her eyes before clearing her throat to try again. "Robbie and I, we're…" _What were they?_ "… seeing each other?" He response came out more as a question as she tested the words on her tongue, looking inquiringly at Robbie as she said it.

Robbie grinned widely, taking a sip of his pint and nodding. _Perhaps his look of satisfaction earlier had not just been about concluding the case, after all. _

"Well, hallelujah!" Innocent exclaimed, striking the table with her fist and almost sending her glass of wine flying. She raised her eyebrows expectantly at Hathaway.

Reluctantly, Hathaway extracted a £20 note from his wallet and slid it across the table to the Chief Super Intendant.

"Ma'am?" Robbie glared at the note.

"Just a little wager…" she replied, sweetly, as she pocketed the money.

"I can't believe you bet on us!" Robbie seemed genuinely affronted.

"I can't believe you let me down!" Hathaway glowered at Robbie. "I thought it would take you until at least Christmas."

"Well, thanks a bunch, Sergeant!"

"So what was it that finally made you two decide to cause Hathaway to divest himself of £20?" Innocent turned to Laura, her voice full of enjoyment.

"Don't answer that, Laura – we no longer class these people as our friends." Robbie protested.

"Robbie…" Laura laughed, reaching with one hand across the table towards him. Mercifully, the gin and tonic had begun to hit her bloodstream. "… even you have to admit that, after all these years, it was a wager-worthy situation."

Robbie watched, aghast, as Laura stretched her other hand out demandingly in Hathaway's direction.

Hathaway reached again for his wallet and withdrew a further £20, which he placed resentfully in Laura's upturned palm.

"Laura!" Robbie practically shrieked.

As they all laughed, Laura felt her embarrassment begin to dissipate: "Oh, don't be such a spoil sport!"

"You bet on us?!" Robbie was smiling, in spite of his indignation.

"Yes, Robbie." Her voice softened almost imperceptibly. "I bet _on_ us."

Robbie's smile widened as he noted her emphasis and, as they looked steadily at each other, for a moment they once again forgot about their company.

Innocent and Hathaway also exchanged glances.

"So, seriously, what happened?" This time, Innocent's tone was genuine.

"Well," Robbie was still looking absorbedly at Laura. "With Hathaway abroad, I had a bit more time on me own. And no one else to go for a pint with…"

"Charming!" Laura scoffed.

"… so I asked Laura… and we got talking… and… well, here we are."

"Finally!" Innocent breathed.

"So… basically, Sir, you're saying I've been dumped?" Hathaway took a theatrically devastated swig of his pint.

Robbie laughed, turning amicably to his sergeant, "In a word… yes."

"Clearly I should never go on leave again."

"Oh, I don't know…" Laura's voice was wistful as she failed to suppress another smile.

"OK, enough!" The conversation had not been as enjoyable as Hathaway had anticipated. The pair were far too at ease with each other. Perhaps, after all these years, he shouldn't have expected anything less. "Let's talk about something else."

* * *

As he had done countless times before, Robbie slipped from the White Horse into the heady warmth of an Oxford summer's evening. Except this time was different. Trailing sheepishly behind him was a beautiful, clever and brilliant woman, who moments ago had thrown her arms around him and kissed him senseless in front of his boss and junior officer. "I didn't see them!" She kept mumbling as they crossed the road together, making him laugh, making him feel happier than he had ever felt upon the closing of a case, with the prospect of a few days' respite ahead of him. Tonight he was leaving the pub _with_ someone. With someone he loved, trusted and wanted to be with more than anyone else on the planet. They climbed the steps to the Sheldonian, caught in a throng of tourists and students, before branching out in the direction of home. He looked down at her, a heady mix of pride, affection and excitement awash in his veins. Safe in the knowledge that their cover was well and truly blown, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She looked up at him and he was indescribably glad to see her smiling too. She was radiant – her cheeks flushed with the remnants of her earlier embarrassment as well as what he hoped was her mirrored glee at finding themselves alone and relaxed, at last. Her arm slipped around his waist and their bodies clicked together. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Robbie felt like he fitted. He was part of something again: no longer on his own.

* * *

**A/N: I hope that, in some way, this chapter did that brilliant scene a little bit of justice. I tried not to overthink it and this was just what came out. That's really where the story ends, but I've written a silly little epilogue if anyone is interested. Thank you so much for reading and for commenting - I have been rubbish at responding to comments because things have been a bit busy. Please forgive me! Getting a nice comment is like being sent a bunch of flowers - it really makes my day. So thank you VERY MUCH for taking the time to read and leave your thoughts.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I really did mean it when I said this was a silly little epilogue. It is totally pointless and really I know I should leave the story where the episode ends - I liked the ending - but this scene just sort of popped into my head and what's the point in writing something if you're not going to share it? Nothing happens - it's basically fluff to give them the first date Robbie wanted, with Laura being subjected to more of his 'gentlemanly' ways. This time, she's had a little more to drink and is trying to put up a fight. So it's just a bit of fun. It's T rated, although obviously (obviously!) with all that talk of bike rides, there's an M version in my mind. ****So, take it or leave it, I really don't mind, but I really DO mind that you have taken the time to read this story. Thank you very much, you lovely people. **

* * *

Epilogue

"Well, here we are." Once again, Robbie and Laura found themselves lingering by her front door. They had enjoyed a wonderful dinner at a stylish, but down-to-earth restaurant by the river. It had been exactly what Robbie had been aiming for: no nonsense but delicious food, seated outside on a deck overlooking the water as the sun ducked low amongst the hedgerows, bouncing glowing orbs of light over the ripples on the river's surface. The crisp wine had flowed as easily as the conversation; in some ways it was just like the old times. But then, once the evening air had cooled, he'd made the most of the chance to cuddle up next to her to keep her warm. She'd accepted readily, looking up at him with the fairy lights that were strung over the jetty dancing in her eyes. Yes - as first dates go, it hadn't gone badly at all.

"So…" Back on her doorstep, they repeated the rigmarole of that first evening they had shared together, Robbie's hands plunged deep in his pockets, Laura's chin tilted provocatively up at him as she spoke.

"So." He took a step backwards.

"Is this goodnight?" From his body language, Laura felt she already knew the answer. However, after an evening spent nestled beside him, his leg touching hers, relaxed and woozy with wine, she felt she might implode if he made her wait any longer.

"Er…"

"Because…" She swayed slightly, squinting at her watch in the porch light. "… It doesn't have to be. You could come in – _for a brandy_," she emphasised the last three words carefully, "and then I promise I'll call you a taxi."

Robbie grimaced, narrowing his eyes and leaning backwards on his heels in that characteristically contemplative way of his. "Laura…"

"Robbie…" she mimicked him with a half-mocking smile.

Her eyes glistened in the semi-darkness.

He smiled wistfully and shook his head.

"I know you, Robbie." She pointed her index finger at him, "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking this is our first date and you want to be a gentleman and treat me like a lady and all that…"

"Yes. Yes, of course I do."

"… But, first things first… it's not really our first date, is it?"

He opened his mouth to object, but she cut him off:

"And, secondly… right at this moment…" _Go on, say it._ "...I don't give a toss about etiquette."

He laughed, amused as always by her frankness. She watched his face, noting that, in spite of his better intentions, his interest was piqued.

"Do you?" A sultry smile was beginning to play at the corners of her lips, as she glimpsed the possibility of winning him round.

"Do I what?"

"Do you really care that much about etiquette?"

"Laura…" he groaned.

"Oh come on, Robbie. It's 2013…"

"That's got nothing to do with it! And neither's etiquette or manners, or being a gentleman, really. Although I do try to behave like one." His voice changed, becoming gentler, "It's to do with you. And me. And… well, the prospect of what I hope this is going to be between us."

She couldn't help a smile at his words and her stance softened. She moved closer to him, toying with the lapels of his jacket. "I'm not suggesting a one night stand, if that's what you're thinking…"

"Good!" He laughed, but his whole body reacted to the image she had generated in his mind. "I'm glad to hear it."

"But don't you _want_ to come in?"

"Laura, you know the answer to that…"

"So stay." She snuggled up against him and he was helpless to the urge to put his arms around her.

"I really should get going…" he tried to protest, but his body readily accepted the warmth of hers.

"Stay and let this last just a little bit longer."

"Hmm." Robbie battled with his conscience, as the scent of her hair mixed with her perfume drifted upwards.

He felt her shudder against the cool pinch of the night air. "You're cold," he murmured, hugging her tightly, by now knowing he was falling fully for her little charade.

"Mmm. I need to go inside." She nuzzled his neck, her voice warm and provocative.

"Yes, you do."

"With you." She reached up and pressed a kiss to the skin below his jaw.

He sighed, sensing the last shreds his resolve falter, as a wave of pleasure radiated from her touch. "Have you really got brandy?" He asked, out of propriety, but deep down knowing he didn't really care about the answer.

"Yes." She murmured. He could hear the smile in her voice.

"OK. One brandy and then I'll go home."

She withdrew from his arms, beaming victoriously, took his hand and led him inside.

* * *

"Are you usually this brazen?" Robbie took a moment to appreciate the view of Laura reaching up on tiptoe for the brandy glasses in her kitchen cabinet – the soft sage silk of her dress rising up over the contours of her body – before he sidled up behind her to assist.

"Pardon?" She looked up at him, relishing the unnecessary hand that he placed on her waist as he gathered the glasses from the top shelf.

"Inviting strange men into your house on the first date?" His face was full of mirth.

"I've told you, Robbie…" she smirked, shaking her head. "It wasn't a first date."

"I was never sure that maths was your strong point, Dr Hobson." He deposited the glasses on the work surface and slipped his arms around her, his nose and lips drawn like a magnet into her hair.

Eagerly, she accepted his embrace, her head lolling sideways to absorb his attentions, "We've been out for dinner hundreds of times." She argued.

"Aye, but you never let me hold your hand at the dinner table before."

"Well, you never asked."

"Or cuddled up to me when it got cold." His hold around her tightened, his fingertips enjoying the flimsiness of the fabric that encased the curve of her waist.

"Again, you never asked."

"Or let me share your dessert…"

"Well, that _is_ true…" she laughed. _He_ laughed. But as they looked at each other the joke was swallowed by something more powerful, the smiles slipping from their faces.

"So, given it was the first time we did all those things, I'd say it was definitely a _first_ date." By now, his fingertip was was tracing the contour of her collarbone and she could feel the heady fizz of longing rising within her in response to his touch.

"Robbie, don't pretend to be a man of technicalities." She murmured as she pressed herself against him. She was losing the argument, she was losing her poise, but, to quote her earlier self, she couldn't give a toss.

He half-laughed, realising that neither of them was really focusing on the conversation any longer.

His fingertip trailed upwards to her chin and he lifted it, before delivering a deep, slow and purposeful kiss.

It was the kind of kiss he had wanted to give her all evening, allowing himself to do so only now that they were behind closed doors. It was the kind of unhurried, yet all-consuming kiss that made them forget almost everything save for each other. Quickly, it left Laura light-headed and she withdrew for air.

"Robbie… " She breathed.

"Mmm?"

"For someone so intent on acting like a gentleman, you don't really kiss like one."

"Am I… er… doing something wrong?" He teased, her breathlessness having more than adequately conveyed her thoughts on the matter. His tongue found her earlobe, sending a swirl of goose bumps trickling down her neck.

"No. No…" she smiled, her voice involuntarily low and sultry, her entire body becoming languid in his arms.

His lips returned to hers. "So…" the words were spoken into her mouth, punctuated by languorous kisses and the warm rush of his breath. "I'm doing all right?"

She smiled against his lips and shuddered, this time not from the cold. "Robbie, believe me… you're doing more than all right."

With his help, she eased herself up to sit on the counter, and, enjoying this new vantage, his mouth toyed roughly with hers, before scuffing with deliberate slowness down her neck, pressing ribbons of pleasure over her skin. Her ribcage rose and fell with increasing imbalance, as she steadied herself with both hands against his chest. Beneath her fingers, she registered a heartbeat that was becoming as erratic as hers. She smiled up at him: a happy, disheveled, encouraging grin, which he returned willingly. His fingers toyed agonizingly with the hem of her dress before sliding deliciously upwards, rucking the fabric up around her thighs. She inhaled sharply. This was definitely progress. Further than they'd come before. She wanted to loosen his tie, to unbutton his shirt, but – in spite of everything – she remained reluctant to spook him. Yet, as his hands sprawled suddenly and unapologetically across her bottom, parting her knees and pressing her not just close, but right up against him, she gave into temptation: his tie swirled silkily through her fingers and his buttons surrendered easily in her deft hands.

"This doesn't look like you calling me a taxi." He murmured, gruffly, glancing down at her hands and flinching slightly as her fingertips made contact with his bare chest.

"You don't look like you're ready to leave." Her voice was gentle: her eyes glassy and dark. She swept her palms up over his chest and weaved her arms around his neck, aligning every inch of their torsos. His fingers were in her hair. His face was so close…

Another reason-defying kiss followed, as their bodies melted against each other.

"Laura?" His eyes were closed, their foreheads touching. Pulses racing.

"Yes?"

"I've thought about this so many times."

Something thrummed inside her and she smiled inwardly. "Me too."

"It seems so strange that it might actually happen."

Her breath caught. "Now?"

"Yes."

"Right now?"

"I think so."

She hesitated for the first time that evening. "What about being a gentleman?"

He chewed on his lip, his face bearing an expression she had never seen before. It made her feel slightly dizzy.

"Maybe I'm tired of being a gentleman."

She gazed up at him and felt her insides contract with the intensity of his stare.

He stepped back slightly, raising his eyebrows in a silent question – for all his command, for all his control and confidence just moments before, now looking nonetheless for her reassurance.

She nodded, sliding from the counter and pressing her nose and her cheek into the light furls of peppery grey hair on his exposed chest, taking a moment to steady herself against the sturdy warmth of his body. His hand came to rest at the nape of her neck, as he traced circles through her hairline with his fingertips.

His lips nudged a tender kiss into her hair. She could feel the beating of his heart against her cheek.

"Robbie?"

"Yes, love?"

"Shall we go upstairs?"


	9. Chapter 9

Optional ending

A/N: A few people asked what happened next and, me being me, I needed very little persuasion. I've written an optional extra chapter called 'Shall We?' which I have posted separately - you can find it on my profile page. Given the subject matter, the rating will be obvious. I've deliberately not posted it to the story because (a) I totally understand that lots of people don't like M and (b) I kinda like the ending as it is. Hopefully, even though it's a pain to have to look for the optional chapter, this keeps everyone happy. Thank you for reading!


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